


in loco parexis

by wreckageofstars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Lighthearted, Rex POV, Rex deserves better than this probably, crack taken semi-seriously, so many regrets, the kid!ficlet that no one (myself included) asked for, title is a shitty shitty play on 'in loco parentis' and i have so, who let this happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckageofstars/pseuds/wreckageofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh no,” Rex said, eyebrows rising near the crown of his head.</p><p>“Oh yes,” General Kenobi replied in a long-suffering tone of voice ill-suited to his youthful face and now gangly limbs. A squirming, wriggling Togruta toddler was tucked under one arm, the other one clamped firmly around the hand of a small, blond child, a familiar-looking scar winding its way over the right eye as they descended the ramp of the Twilight. “I'm afraid so.”<br/>____________________________</p><p>Or: the intrepid trio get themselves Separatist-lasered into childhood, leaving Captain Rex to serve as the only Adult in the vicinity until the Jedi Council figure out how to reverse this nonsense. It goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in loco parexis

Generally speaking, getting called to the hangar bay of the Resolute on a private comm channel by your commanding officer's commanding officer in the middle of the ship's night and being told in explicit terms to tell absolutely no one never did exactly bode well, but this was verging on slightly ridiculous.

Though he'd thought that General Kenobi's voice was pitched slightly higher than usual. At least now he knew he hadn't been imagining it.

“Oh no,” Rex said, eyebrows rising near the crown of his head.

“Oh yes,” General Kenobi replied in a long-suffering tone of voice ill-suited to his youthful face and now gangly limbs. A squirming, wriggling Togruta toddler was tucked under one arm, the other one clamped firmly around the hand of a small, blond child, a familiar-looking scar winding its way over the right eye as they descended the ramp of the Twilight. “I'm afraid so.” He shifted to get a better grip on who Rex assumed was Commander Tano. She was attempting to fit the tip of her lekku into her mouth. “No, Ahsoka, lekku are not for eating -”

“'Soka has very sharp teeth,” General Skywalker told him sagely, over the sound of General Kenobi's sharply muttered ' _ow_!' as Ahsoka deigned to replace the tip of her lekku with the General's index finger.

“Yes, sir,” Rex agreed reflexively, wondering faintly at how they were going to explain this to High Command, and what exactly military protocol dictated when your commanding officer was now also a child several years younger than yourself. General Kenobi, now roughly the size of a fresh-from-training clone cadet, seemed distinctly, alarmingly unfazed by the situation ( _Jedi_ , his brain whispered disbelievingly from the back of his head).

“Oh, for Force's sake,” he was muttering, having finally extracted his fingers from the Commander's mouth. “I need to contact the Council, Anakin, would you -”

“Well, sure, but I'm not sure I can carry her,” General Skywalker replied, letting go of Kenobi's hand. “Only got one arm. Well, and a half, I guess.”

General Kenobi paused, smooth forehead wrinkling into a frown as his former apprentice flapped his opposite sleeve uselessly, wincing slightly. The bottom half of it was only fabric, the prosthetic no longer attached. He was wearing what appeared to be his usual trousers (though they were rolled up to a ridiculous degree) and the under-tunic of his Jedi robes, though it was long enough that the sleeves nearly trailed on the ground, the belt and tabard flung diagonally across his shoulder where the lightsaber hung, now much too large for the hand that usually grasped it. “Did it not shrink with you? The rest of your arm, I mean,” General Kenobi asked. “Well, I suppose it wouldn't have – _blast_ – you might have mentioned that earlier, Anakin. I would have grabbed it from the rubble.”

On second thought, Rex thought, frowning, perhaps the General was a bit more frazzled than he was letting on.

“S'okay. D'you think if I'm good they'll let me build another one?” General Skywalker asked, forehead crinkling in turn. Rex glanced away as Kenobi's eyes softened, even as his beardless jaw tightened in some long-buried frustration.

“Of course they will, Anakin,” he said, far more kindly than Rex had come to expect. “Remember?” He wondered, with the kind of faint, mild distaste that railed against the protocols that did their best to field his thoughts, exactly when that frank, undisguised sympathy had been stamped out by the Jedi. “I know you must be confused, but -”

General Skywalker shrugged, the movement made ever so slightly off-kilter by his lack of a right arm. He, too, was alarmingly nonchalant. “'S kinda weird, but probably not the weirdest thing that's ever happened. Kinda hard to keep things straight though. Like having two diff'rent -” He paused, blinking in concentration. He looked tentatively, reluctantly up at General Kenobi. “Is my mom -?”

“I'm afraid so,” the General replied, after a moment. General Skywalker nodded, face twisting briefly, familiarly, before it settled into a scowl that was far less intimidating than it usually was.

“Right,” he said. “Well, will the Council know how to fix this? 'Cause I've already been a kid once and it wasn't exactly wizard, so-”

“That's why I need to contact them,” Kenobi said, already looking more tired than anyone his age had the right to be. Commander Tano squirmed in his arms, squawking in protest when he only gripped her tighter. “I'm still not quite sure how this happened.” He met Rex's eyes. “The circumstances were a bit – complicated. A Separatist laser got refracted through what I think must have been some kind of Sith artefact,” he explained matter-of-factly, as though that sort of occurrence was frequent. Well, thought Rex, head beginning to pound, on this flagship he couldn't exactly say that it _wasn't_. “Anakin,” General Kenobi continued, “ have you any idea how old you are, physically? It might be hard to judge, but it could be important. We seem to have retained any scars and the like.”

General Skywalker looked at him dubiously. “Master, I didn't even know how old I was _before_ we got like this.”

Rex felt something in his gut twist as Kenobi looked back at him with a familiar mixture of sadness and exasperation. “ _Ballpark it_ , Anakin.”

“I dunno, seven? Eight? Do people seriously keep track of this stuff?”

General Kenobi scrubbed a hand down his face. “For Force's sake -” he said, as the Commander took advantage of his distraction to mount another attempt at escaping his grasp. “ _Ahsoka_ -”

“Here, General,” Rex offered, stepping closer, sensing the General was perhaps slightly closer to reaching his breaking point than he might have been usually. He politely repressed an amused smirk as the true extent of General Kenobi's unexpected gawkiness became apparent. He, too, was small for his age, the trouser legs and sleeves of his tunic and cloak rolled up substantially.

“Thank you, Captain,” the General said gratefully, handing him Commander Tano. Rex was unaccustomed to holding children, but copied the General's grip as closely as he was able, though it was surprisingly difficult. Commander Tano – he blinked as a small, chubby hand narrowly missed smacking him in the nose – did _not_ want to be held.

“I really ought to talk to the Council about this,” General Kenobi said seriously. “And perhaps I'd better inform Admiral Yularen of our situation as well. Do you mind keeping an eye on them for a few minutes? It's probably best to keep them in the hangar bay. I think they're confused enough without throwing the Council into the mix, and we don't want the crew to become overly alarmed. There's food and supplies in the Twilight.”

“Of course, sir,” Rex said, pushing aside his misgivings about his ability to look after children. It wasn't as though he was going to refuse, even though it was technically outside of his purview. Besides, it was his General and Commander, and they were _Jedi._ Even child-sized, how much trouble could they possibly be?

General Kenobi turned to his former apprentice, frowning. “Be good, Anakin. I'll just be gone for a moment. Do as Rex says, alright?”

“I'm always good, Master. Aren't I technically still in charge of him, though?” General Skywalker asked, a hint of mischief brightening his face.

General Kenobi's lower left eyelid twitched. “If you'll recall, this isn't the first time we've met, _Padawan_. I remember what you were like. Kindly do not subject Captain Rex to the same shenanigans you felt compelled to subject _me_ to, back in the day.” He turned to Rex, youthful face pinched and irritated. “I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't let them touch anything,” he recommended darkly, before trudging tiredly out of the hangar, commlink in hand.

“Hard to believe he managed to get even grouchier,” General Skywalker commented as Commander Tano began a careful exploration of Rex's face with her tiny, inexplicably grubby hands, fingers coming precariously close to jabbing him in the eye. “You can probably put her down if you want, Rex,” he said. “I don't think she'll go anywhere.”

“Are you sure about that, General?” he asked, even as the Commander, presumably upon hearing the word 'down', began to wriggle with even more determination.

“Da!” she said emphatically. “ _Da!_ ”

The General considered her for a moment, eyes growing distant. Rex wasn't sure the Jedi knew what they looked like when they accessed the Force, how it made the hairs on the back of ordinary men raise on end. That expression, cold, distant, tapped into something otherworldly, looked downright disturbing on a child. “I'm sure,” he said finally. “You won't go anywhere, right Snips?”

“ _Da_ ,” she said.

“Alright then, Little Biter,” Rex agreed, crouching down to place her on the ground. He stayed, arms out and ready to catch as she took a few excited, wobbling steps towards the General, bare feet tangling in the messy alteration of someone's tunic that had been tied around her. “Shouldn't she be able to speak more by now?” he asked, watching her toddle the short distance between them. “Seems like she can walk, sort of.”

“I think Togruta children don't usually speak 'til later than most human children do,” the General said, moving unsteadily to sit cross-legged on the cold floor, singular arm outstretched for the Commander to grab hold of. “Plus, I bet Basic is hard to speak with all of those teeth, right Snips?” He spoke to her in garbled Huttese for a moment, faster than Rex could translate.

“ _Koochoo_ ,” she said in return, grinning a delighted, pointy grin, when the General blushed.

“Maybe don't say that one in front of Obi-Wan,” he muttered, wincing slightly. Commander Tano patted him on the face, as if in comfort.

“Aah,” she said sagely. Rex had the distinct impression that she understood far more than she was able to articulate. He huffed a quiet laugh. Commander Tano always had been the wisest among them.

“You always seem to know what to say, Little 'un,” he said affectionately, as she abandoned her attempt at walking for a new and valiant effort at chewing on General Skywalker's hand.

“ _Woah_ , Snips, I need that,” the General said with not unwarranted concern as she clambered onto his lap, his hand in her grasp and drawing ever closer to the drooling, gaping maw. “Why don't you take the other sleeve instead? I guess I don't really need it.” He extracted his hand with difficulty and gave her the opposite sleeve instead, the fabric free of any flesh and blood that might fall prey to her undiscerning teeth. “You're not worried about this at all, are you?”

“Ah,” she paused her gnawing to say in response. The tone was predictably nonchalant.

“Are you worried, General?” Rex asked, coming to the realization that he himself found it oddly difficult to read his facial expressions. The General he knew was a bit more – volatile – than his younger counterpart. Underneath that facade of Jedi calm, it was usually fairly easy to discern the emotions lurking just beneath. Or at least gauge the intent. This child was – guarded. Cautious.

And almost frighteningly adaptable. No child he'd ever met (not that he'd met all that many, but the point still stood) would deal so calmly with what had to be at least twenty-two years worth of knowledge and memories, a dead mother, and a missing hand all in the span of a few hours. Was this the Jedi's doing? Or was it something else? He wondered. During the awful affair on Kadavo, he'd heard whispers of his General's past – he did his best to squash rumours when he heard them, discourage gossip among the men, but it was impossible to avoid completely. If they were true -

Well. He wondered, that was all. But he would never ask, even though he suspected that the child sitting before him would answer frankly, that the bitter, angry reticence that so characterized his General had been learned, acquired, rather than something he'd been born with.

“Jedi aren't supposed to be worried, I don't think,” the General said uncertainly, making his gut twist uncomfortably again. “I don't – it's a bit hard to keep track of right now. It's okay, though. Master Obi-Wan is probably worried enough for all three of us, even though he'll say he isn't. If anyone can figure this out, I'm sure he can.”

That unwavering faith wasn't something new, then.

“You can probably call me Anakin, too, if you want,” the General continued. “Since you're older than me now.”

“That's true, I suppose, though probably not by much. Us clones grow up fast. Feels a bit wrong, though. Not sure my programming allows for it,” Rex admitted, watching as the General's eyes narrowed. “Except in extraordinary cases.”

“Like that time you were held hostage.”

“Exactly.”

“Well,” the General said, “I don't remember 'xactly what counts as extraordinary in your book, Captain, but I think probably this should.”

“Maybe you're right, sir,” Rex agreed. “I'll – think about it.”

The General smiled, even as Commander Tano began to paw at his empty sleeve, seemingly only just realizing its lack of accompanying hand. The end of the sleeve was now covered in both drool and teeth-marks.

“Ah,” she said, patting the General on the face to get his attention. “Ah.”

“It's okay 'Soka,” the General said. “It's not gone forever.”

Rex leaned forward. “Can you – tell what she's thinking, sir?”

“I don't know,” the General said, pausing. “I guess so, sort of. I think it's 'cause we're still technically Master and Padawan. The Force is stronger between us, so it's easier to share thoughts, feelings, sensations -” He paused again, frowning. The Commander patted his face, expression screwed up into the toddler-equivalent of concern, or something like it.

“ _Aah_ ,” she said again, more insistently.

“Oh, right. Sorry, Snips,” the General said, eyebrows coming together in concentration. Rex thought he saw some of the colour leech from his cheeks. “Issat better?”

“ _Aah_ ,” she replied, clearly unsatisfied.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Rex asked, confused by the entire exchange. Stars above, he would go above and beyond for his commanding officers, for his Jedi, but they weren't half-exasperating to be around sometimes. Between the unspoken, cryptic glances and their single-minded, sacrificial heroics -

Not to mention circumstances like these that were so common aboard the Resolute that he couldn't even find it within himself to be surprised anymore.

“It's nothing,” the General said quickly, colour rushing back into his cheeks. That was more like the General he knew – and a clear indication that it was, in fact, something. Rex bit back a sigh. Clearly some things never changed.

“With all due respect, sir, if it isn't nothing, it's not just you that General Kenobi will get after. Might go better for the both of us to take care of it before he gets back.”

The General only scowled harder. “It's nothing,” he insisted, shoulders caving slightly inward as he curled into himself. Commander Tano seemed to take personal offence at this reticence, turning to look at Rex with an expression that could only mean ' _can you believe this guy?_ '.

“ _Aah_ ,” she articulated with ominous finality before taking a chubby hand and whacking it with as much force as she could muster on the upper part of what remained of General Skywalker's right arm.

“ _E chu ta_ , 'Soka!” he exclaimed, doubling over in surprise. The face hiding under the hair that now dangled in front had leeched of colour again. _'Nothing' my arse_ , thought Rex. “No fair!”

“Ba,” Commander Tano said, satisfied. She placed a hand on his face again, this time in apology.

Rex sighed. Poor General Kenobi.

“You two really are quite the handful,” he said, not unkindly. “ _General_ -”

“It's really okay,” General Skywalker said, voice smaller than it had been. “It just – stings a little. I don't think it's really supposed to come off like that, on account of all of the – the nerves an' stuff that are attached. 'Soka can feel it. I'm not so good at – at shutting her out, like this,” he said sheepishly.

“She can – feel that your arm hurts?” Rex took a moment to marvel, against the slight horror the thought of a precisely integrated prosthetic becoming improperly removed wrought. The Force could sometimes be a hard sell, its mechanics invisible, its feats sometimes taking the appearance of the perfectly feasible. But things like that – what could he possibly say? “Well, there's nothing wrong with that, sir.” He'd decided to take the route of reassurance, though he still wasn't sure he was any good at this child-minding gig. The Kaminoans had never been exactly – _parental_. “Tell you what, why don't we go aboard the Twilight and take care of it before General Kenobi even comes back?”

“Well, I dunno -”

_Patience, Rex. What would Kenobi do?_

_Well. Scrub a hand down his face and say ' **Ana** -kin', probably._

He'd seen it in action often enough. Something told Rex that likely wasn't the right approach in this instance.

“Seems to me that Commander Tano could use some dinner, too. Isn't that right, Little Biter?”

“ _Ba_ ,” came the reply. The General met her eyes for a moment, expression growing distant.

“Yeah, I guess she could,” he agreed finally, uncurling slightly.

“Well, then,” Rex said, swooping forward to pluck the Commander gently from his General's lap. Following some instinct he couldn't quite get a read on, he placed her on his shoulders, where she settled happily, small hands exploring the close shave of his scalp with interest. He offered a hand to General Skywalker. “Come on, sir.”

“Okay,” the General said reluctantly, accepting the hand and clambering awkwardly to his feet, face pinched. “Do you promise not to tell Obi-Wan? I don't want him to be – to be mad.”

Rex frowned as they headed back towards the ramp of the Twilight. “I'm sure he won't be mad, sir.” He paused as the General turned to look up at him dubiously. “Well,” he amended, “he might be – upset, that you didn't tell him. Or upset that he didn't notice. But that's just because he cares about you.”

The General brightened, face relaxing slightly. “You think so?”

“I'm sure of it, sir,” Rex said, ducking slightly so Commander Tano wouldn't bump her head on the top of the door as they entered the smaller ship. “Here, why don't you sit with the Commander while I sort all this out?” He removed the Commander from his shoulders, again narrowly avoiding a kick to the nose, and placed her carefully on his hip. He felt a surge of belated pity for whoever was in charge of looking after baby Jedi – he had a feeling Commander Tano had provided them with a...unique challenge.

Though, speaking of baby Jedi -

“Er, General,” he admitted, forehead creasing as he fought against the slight flush that was fighting its way up his neck, “I have no idea what baby Togruta eat.”

The General frowned, considering. “I'm not really sure either,” he said. “She's got more teeth than most babies I've ever met. There's bantha milk in the galley?”

“Hard to go wrong with that,” Rex said. He looked down at the Commander. “Any objections?”

“Ba,” she said, wriggling.

“I'll take that as a no,” he said, watching carefully as the General clambered precariously into the pilot's seat of the Twilight. “I'll leave you two here for a moment, sir.”

“Sure, Rex,” the General said, as Rex placed Commander Tano in his lap again. “I won't touch any buttons, promise. Only – do you think when Obi-Wan gets back he might let me into the engines? He used to let me tinker with stuff, sometimes, back when – back when I was a kid before.”

“You let me take care of that arm, and feed you both, and I can't see why he wouldn't,” Rex said. “Be right back, sir.”

He left them in the cockpit, fairly certain that for the moment they would be hard pressed to get into any trouble. It was funny – the two seemed perfectly happy in each other's company no matter the circumstances.

“ _Jedi,_ ” he muttered fondly, rustling around the ship's galley for the bantha milk. It was poorly organized, and upon opening one of the metal cupboards overhead he'd nearly been knocked over by the improperly stacked stash of ration bars that had come tumbling out, but he did eventually find what he was looking for. The milk was powdered, but once water had been added it looked drinkable enough. He poured two glasses, crushed half a dose of a pain suppressor into one.

“Here you are, sirs,” he said, re-entering the cockpit. “You'll be good as new in no time.”

“Thanks, Rex,” the General said gratefully, accepting the glass. Commander Tano babbled something presumably with the same sentiment in mind, grabbing hold of the glass with two hands. “Sorry you get sucked into this weird poodoo all the time.”

“Wouldn't trade it for the world, sir,” Rex said, meaning it. Like it or not, this was where he belonged. He couldn't imagine life any differently – some days that thought made some part of his chest ache uncomfortably, made his head hurt, but today he found it didn't bother him at all. “Someone's got to look after you Jedi.”

The General finished the last of his drink, eyes blinking lethargically.

“Did you...?” he asked, not bothering to finish the question.

“Not the drowsy kind, sir,” Rex replied. “Think you might just be tired.”

“Can't fall asleep,” he said sleepily, head drooping. “Mom'll get in trouble...No, wait.” He looked back up, blinking. “Sorry. Confused.”

“Don't worry, sir. No one's getting in trouble here.”

“Thanks, Rex,” he said again, yawning, muttering something garbled in Huttese under his breath. His head dropped sideways this time, eyelids sliding shut reluctantly.

“Aah,” Commander Tano said, seeming to agree. She settled back against his chest and closed her eyes. Within a few seconds the two of them were sleeping soundly, dead to the world. Rex shook his head fondly.

“Oh, good,” a soft voice from behind him said. He turned around, surprised. General Kenobi's unusually small frame was leaned against the door to the cockpit. “The ship and its occupants are still in one piece. And you've got them to sleep.” A brief smile. “That's better than I could have ever done, Captain.”

“I doubt that very much, sir,” Rex replied quietly, stepping closer. “Though I can see how they might give the impression of trouble. I think getting struck by a Separatist laser and rapidly de-aged might have tuckered them out.”

“You'd think that would do it,” General Kenobi said in agreement, suppressing a yawn himself. “I've spoken with the Council – they've got our scientists working on a potential solution. Master Yoda seems convinced our situation is only temporary.”

“Then that's good news, sir,” Rex said.

“Quite,” and the General did yawn now, a gangly arm reaching up to cover his mouth. “Excuse me,” he said, flushing. “And thank you for looking after them, Captain.” His voice was warm, eyes fond.

Rex stepped to the side as General Kenobi removed his cloak and draped it gently over the sleeping occupants of the pilot's chair, something warm filling the part of his chest that the war never did.

“Anytime, sir,” he said, voice pitched low. He didn't want to wake them. “Anytime.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god seriously how did I let this happen
> 
> (actually I know exactly how this happened your girl is leaving for school soon and absolutely doesn't want to think about it so you get abhorrent, plotless fluff for your trouble, I guess is what I'm saying here)
> 
> this just needed to be written, and I have no plans to continue it at this time, though who knows about later (it might make more sense as a 'verse tbh??) - anyways, I promise more Echoes is absolutely in the works!! i'm just having trouble thinking about literally anything in the longterm right now, so it's gonna have to wait until I possess slightly more chill - sorry for the holdup! please accept this meagre, plotless offering in the meantime
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you thought!  
> \- W


End file.
